See You Later
by elizaye
Summary: Written in response to a post by imagineyourotp: Imagine your OTP having an ordinary conversation, and the last thing one of them says before they need to leave is "I'll see you later!" And imagine them never coming back. Warning for Major Character Death.


**See You Later**

They've made it through Hell. They've survived the end of the world. They've even fought their way through Purgatory and came out on the other side, and they're better for it. And now, it's time for their reward.

Sam had settled down while they were stuck in Monsterland, but he hadn't been idle. As soon as he got Kevin Tran's call, he arranged a meeting, learned about a new table, a new Word of God. Apparently, there was a ritual on it that allowed for the gates of Hell to be closed, permanently.

When Dean and Castiel hear this news, the first thing they do is try to confirm it. Though his wings are permanently damaged by his stint in Purgatory, Castiel attempts to reach Hell and is blocked. This is the first absolute confirmation that the war is over, and they rejoice.

Kevin goes home to his mother. He still wants to go to college, still wants to get into Princeton, but he sees so much more to life now than just school, and though he jokes that he never wants to see their faces again, he promises that he'll always do his best to help Sam and Dean.

Meanwhile, Sam takes Dean and Castiel home to his girlfriend, Amelia. Dean and Cas stay for a little while—a few weeks, and then Dean says they should be going, can't take advantage of Sam and Amelia forever. Dean talks about going back on the job, talks about saving people, hunting things. So they go on a few hunts. They kill a shapeshifter in Arkansas, and then take down a nest of vampires in Louisiana.

But Sam and Dean could never truly stay apart, not for any significant length of time, so Dean and Cas inevitably end up returning to Kermit, Texas and renting a small apartment across town from Sam and Amelia's place. Besides, Dean's tired of the hunting life, and while he's never exactly been cut out for normal life with a white picket fence, he wants to give it a try, because he has Cas now, and that changes everything.

Years pass.

They're happy, all of them. Jody Mills visits now and then, when she's off-duty, and she's like a mother to Sam. Kevin and his mother come when they can, and Dean especially loves it because Kevin's mom makes the best fried rice. Even Garth stops by whenever his hunts take him through Texas, because he never really knew angels existed before Castiel, and he thinks of the angel as a good luck charm.

Sam and Amelia eventually have two kids: a little girl with curly brown hair named Annette (Dean tried _everything_ to get them to name her Samantha, but they wouldn't listen) and a baby boy, Sean.

Dean notices the way Castiel dotes on the children and suggests that they adopt, and after tweaking some history with the FBI and forging a number of official documents, Dean Winchester and Castiel Singer bring home a baby girl with bright, blue eyes and a tuft of silky, blonde hair. Dean lets Castiel pick the name, and after deliberating for a moment, he chooses, "Layla."

He knows Dean remembers instantly, like a punch to the gut, and Castiel lays a hand over his, and all he has to say is that he knows. This is the first person Dean met who truly had _faith_, faith in something bigger and more powerful than herself, and the first such person who earned respect from Dean for said faith.

Castiel wants their daughter to know that feeling, to have that kind of faith, so he extracts that name from Dean's memory. Dean chooses her middle name, Jo, and when they go over to Sam's house that night, they surprise him and Amelia with the newest addition to the family: Layla Jo Winchester.

* * *

It's a Monday morning when Castiel feels it. The shift in the air. A new presence in the room. He hasn't stretched his wings for years. They were weakened by Purgatory, and his attempt to breach Hell furthered that process even more, so that he doesn't think he could fly anymore even if he tried.

It's been years. Dean doesn't know it, but Castiel peeked into Heaven before returning from his aborted trip to Hell, and the few angels remaining were recovering, regaining their feet, still trying to make sense of everything that happened. He knew that he was not welcome there, that he massacred dozens of his brothers in cold blood, so he hid himself, stayed on Earth and kept his head down.

At the sign of a new presence in the room, he instantly knows, _knows_, that it was really only a matter of time. Only a matter of time before the angels regrouped, evaluated his crime, decided his punishment, and sought him on Earth. Only a matter of time before they found him and exacted revenge.

"Dean?" Castiel calls out. He knows his lover is in the garage, taking a day off to work on the Impala. Even after all these years, he's kept her in excellent condition, but she busted a tire yesterday, and Dean can't stand to have her sitting in the garage in disrepair.

"Yeah, Cas?"

"We're out of milk! I'm gonna make a quick run to the grocery!"

"Hey, wait up!" Dean calls, and Castiel pauses on his way to the door, sends up a silent prayer for his brother to wait—_please_, just wait. Not here. Not now.

Then Dean's in the room, and Castiel smiles, amazed at how easy it is to lie.

"I think Layla had a list of things for us to get for her. Y'know, for that art project thing she's doing?" Dean says, and he's walking past Castiel, sifting through papers on the counter top.

Castiel walks up to Dean, presses a kiss to his cheek. "Don't worry. I have the list memorized."

"Right, angel memory. What good did that do when you had to go out and buy stuff for dinner at Amelia's and came back with all the wrong ingredients, hmm? We're finding you that list," Dean responds, but as he picks Layla's list out of the stack of paper and hands it over, he grins and gets a proper kiss from Castiel.

"Mm," Castiel hums when they pull apart. "I love you, Dean."

It says something about the change in their lifestyle, the shift in their relationship, that Dean doesn't even bat an eyelash, just responds with a soft smile and a "Love you too, Cas."

And he can't help it, has to lean back in and get another kiss, another taste, before it's time. "For the road," he murmurs as he backs away this time.

"Aw, you melt me into little pieces," Dean teases. "Get going, 'kay? Want you to get back before it's time to pick Layla up."

"Yes, of course."

Dean starts heading toward the door to the garage, and Castiel's heart sinks.

"I'll see you later!" he calls, even though it's a lie, just so that he can see Dean turn and flash that grin at him one more time.

And then Dean disappears back into the garage, and Castiel looks down at the sheet of paper in his hands. He folds it, puts it back on the counter, and lifts a pen out of the mug they use to hold writing utensils. "Sorry, Dean," he writes. He means to continue, but his hand shakes, and his vision blurs. He sets the pen down, wipes at his eyes, and then grabs his set of keys and heads out the door.

Samandriel stands out on the sidewalk, a sad look in his eyes. "I wish we didn't have to do this," he says.

Castiel nods. "I accept the consequences of my actions, and I am thankful for the reprieve awarded to me." He knows how things are done in Heaven, knows that they could have come for him years sooner, but someone up there must have been looking after him.

"We tried everything we could, Castiel."

"I understand."

"Come, then. You may choose our final destination."

"Thank you, brother." For he is still a brother, and Castiel still loves him.

Samandriel holds out his hand, and Castiel takes it.

* * *

Half an hour later, a frantic prayer—_CAS?_—reverberates through Heaven, in every angel's Grace, and though the prevailing side feel vindicated, the rest are pained by the Righteous Man's grief.

Dean doesn't cry, doesn't show any outward signs of his emotions except a hint of wildness in his eyes. He leaves his home, takes Layla to Sam's with a firm promise that he'll come back, that he'll bring Cas back with him. But he scours the Earth, and he finds nothing. He prays, he searches, but he can't find anything.

And then, eight months later, outside an abandoned warehouse in Van Nuys, he feels a twinge in his shoulder, the one marked by Cas so many years ago. Filled with dread, he pushes the door open and enters. Inside, he finds a set of jet-black wings, scorched into the ground, and he knows, without a doubt, that he's found Cas.

He stumbles over, slowly, falls to his knees where Castiel's body should be, and finally, _finally_, begins to sob. Tears wrack his frame, and he slumps, because he can't do this, can't play at being normal without his anchor, his angel, his _Cas._

But eventually, his tears dry, and he manages to open his eyes again, look at the massive, black wings surrounding him. And that's when he see sit—his amulet, the one he tossed in the trash when he'd discovered that God was a shitty father, that God had abandoned them all.

"Cas, you bastard," he whispers as he picks it up by the cord, reverent. "You had it with you this whole time?"

When he places the charm in the palm of his hand, it glows blue, like it knows him, and a sense of calm fills him. Strength. Warmth. Trust. Love. _Cas._

And this is when he knows it. Knows that Cas has beaten the world again, that Cas has found a way to take care of Dean even when he can't do it anymore, because one of them has to be there for Layla.

Some piece of his grace is here, locked up nice and warm and safe, and maybe the angels know about it, maybe they don't.

But Dean has Cas, will always have Cas, and that's really all that matters.


End file.
